The Meeting
by MasterMeister999
Summary: Sequel to "Where Did I Go Wrong?" Two women meet at a coffee shop to discuss the well-being of a certain eight-year-old child.
Saturday.

A few minutes past noon.

She was waiting impatiently sitting at that table outside of the café. She could not believe how rude and disrespectful some people are, calling from out of nowhere and scheduling a meeting. People she barely even knew, as a matter of fact. Who was this nobody who even had the gall to plan such an outing on a day like this? It's cold and rainy and she would much rather be working her butt off she could spend precious time with her children, at least that's what one would believe.

This brown-haired lady was in no mood to talk to anybody for her workload was piled up enough already. When most people would be working a nine-to-five job, hers would last nearly the entire day from 8 to lord knows when! She believed she had so much better things to do than be summoned to coffee shop of all places to have a discussion with someone has random as this. Well, as fate would have it, this woman was about to be in for the rudest awakening of her life as her appointee had just now arrived.

There she was, with her signature red-hair tied up into a ponytail. She was wearing what appeared to be a light green hoodie over a white shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. What a disgustingly casual outfit to wear on such a cold afternoon, she thought. If she wants to get sick so bad, then it's no skin off my bones. She first made her way to the clerk and ordered one medium cup of coffee before sitting down at the opposite side of the table where the already disgruntled woman was sitting.

"Thank you for waiting for me. I'm sorry it took so long, you would not believe the traffic," the red haired gave her honest greetings.

She sighed and asked with a voice full of sternness, "Can I help you?"

The red haired introduced herself first, "Yes, ma'am. My name is Francis Foster and I work at Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends."

The brown-haired had heard this before, "You've told me once already."

"We are a non-profit organization that cares for abandoned imaginary friends. My grandmother runs the place and we're located on…" Francis "Frankie" Foster was making her best effort to sound as professional as she could, but the older brown haired woman was quick to interrupt.

"I already know about the place."

Frankie could sense that there was tense aura of unease surrounding this woman. Honestly, she could feel it permeating from a mile away. Scratch that, several days before, the aura threatened to engulf her over the very phone when she scheduled the meeting in the first place. Frankie cut to the chase, "Then you must know why I am here."

The brown haired nodded.

Frankie took a deep breath in an attempt to compose herself and began speaking, "Ma'am, we need to talk about something. Several weeks ago there was an accident over at our residence. It all started when…"

"What does any of this have to do with me," the brown haired woman snapped silently.

"I'll tell you," Frankie's composure had taken a soft blow but it was still holding on. "There was an incident over at Foster's. It all started when an imaginary friend we were keeping was adopted one day. We can't give her name, but we have a source that informed us that it moved in right next to your home."

"I think I can recall," the brown haired woman replied. "I remember that we were originally planning on moving out that day. It was noisy as all get out. How do you know about this? What's your source," she plainly demanded.

"We cannot reveal that information," Frankie responded, her composure taking another hit. Frankie thought, who's the one being rude here again? Here I am trying to have a civil conversation with her, and she's demanding all these things from me! Frankie exhaled, but this moment of relief would not last forever. "As I was saying, there was an incident and let's just that there was that the imaginary friend was misplaced. There was an attempt to have her returned when events spiraled out of control."

The brown haired woman was having none of it. "I must ask you again, how do you know where I live? How do you know that that person is no longer living next door? Who is this source?"

Frankie could feel that she already knew where this was going but she was trying her hardest to put up a strong defense to prevent that from happening. "Ma'am, we cannot reveal that information."

"Surely, you can," she struck back. "You already know where I live, so there must be some connection between you and the thing that moved next to us."

Thing…?!

Okay, whoa.

Imaginary friends can take many, many, many forms, but they are sure as hell not "things." These are living beings with the ability to think, act, and feel of their own accord. They are not objects to be used and tossed out! Now I definitely see where he gets his pent up aggression, she thought to herself.

"Listen, I do not have time to here you out about some incident that never occurred to me, and I certainly do not appreciate you learning of where I live. I'm sorry but this discussion is over, you see I am very busy and…"

"It was your son!"

Frankie couldn't take it anymore, she had to get through to her. I'm sorry, pal, she thought to herself, but I have to get this to stop even if it means sacrificing all we've fought for. I'm going to put an end to this. Thus, Frankie buckled under the pressure and revealed the source's identity to her. That got her attention and she was holding back a tidal wave of frustration.

"Excuse me?!"

"Your son Mac is our source! In fact, he was the one trying to return the imaginary friend back to us!" Frankie laid it down on her, and the brown haired woman, rather Mac's mother, was not happy to hear this.

"What?! How could my son…! Why would he…!" Her blood pressure flew through the roof and she was ready to take her aggression out on Frankie.

"Your son visits us daily," Frankie said plainly.

Numbness.

She felt numbness.

Numbness in her body and numbness in her soul.

She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Mac's mother readjusted herself in an attempt to regain her composure, now. Little did Frankie know that this numbness was hiding a now tsunami of anger. "Please continue," She said blankly.

Frankie exhaled a second time and retraced her steps, "The situation rapidly spiraled out of control when your other son Terrence intervened."

At this point she barely even cared. "Now my eldest son knows about this place, wonderful," Mac and Terrence's mother replied sarcastically.

Frankie ignored that spiteful comment as she attempted to explain herself, "You see a fight erupted and…"

The pair's mother snapped again, "Mac knows better than to…"

Frankie then shot back so she could put her back in her place, "You're son had a meltdown!"

"What…?!"

"Mac had a suicidal meltdown," Frankie was going to beat this into her if she had to. "It took several hours for him to come to after he collapsed on our front porch, right after he started punching and biting himself."

I want to kill this woman, Mac's mother thought. "How…dare you," she let loose. "How dare you say these things to me?! How dare you even know these things about me?!" She was lucky that hardly anyone else was at the coffee shop for the ensuing argument would have without a doubt caused a scene. However, now was the perfect time for Frankie to get better knowledge on Mac's situation at home, and Mac's mother was not prepared.

"Ma'am, I want to ask you several questions," Frankie presented.

"Questions like what," Mac's mother struck back after regaining her calmness.

"What is Mac's home life like? Is he being taken care of? Is he being fed properly? We…I am very concerned for his well-being."

Mac's mother demanded, "Why is that any of your business?! He's my son, not yours!"

Frankie was blunt, "It is my business because your son is one of our guests."

"Mac knows better than to…! Look, it's bad enough that my eldest son has a criminal record now…," Mac's mother trailed off.

"Because he intruded on our property on three or four occasions," Frankie countered.

Mac's mother was enraged now, "No! Terrence was there to bring Mac home when _you_ intervened!"

Frankie was quite surprised now. Is this what your mother is really like, buddy? If all she's going to do is rant and project all of her problems onto other people, then I don't see what I am afraid of. Frankie realized that Mac's mother was weaker than she thought, and she continued her defense of what was precious to her. She asked again one syllable at a time, "What is Mac's home life like?"

"Alright," Mac's mother responded. "If you want to know that badly, Mac lives in a perfectly good home with…"

"With an abusive older brother," Frankie interrupted.

"Do not interrupt me! Terrence is a perfectly responsible older brother who is just as concerned for Mac's well-being as you claim to be!"

Frankie could openings after openings in her arguments of denial, "Then why does he come to our place with bruises on his body?"

"Like I said," Mac's mother attempted to make an excuse, "Mac knows better than to go off on his own to places he has never been to, meeting with people he barely even knows, especially without my permission. Honestly, he's not as smart as he thinks he is because he's…"

Frankie was steamed now "Only eight years old while the other is thirteen?! How can you say that about your own youngest son who happens to be both autistic _and_ diabetic?! I think your son is one of the most intelligent and creative children I know! For one thing, he has the guts to come to people when he's in need of help, especially when all of this pressure is being applied to him!"

Mac's mother pretended to misunderstand, "What pressure?"

Frankie was frank, "The pressure of becoming an adult when he's not supposed to!"

Mac's mother laid silent for about a minute. She was now at that point where she was actually wondering the method of which she would end this person's miserable life and how nobody would find out, not that she would actually go through with it. I cannot believe my youngest son would betray me like this after everything I have done for him, she also thought.

Frankie proceeded to deconstruct her, "Mac told almost everything that happened in his life, and I think I heard enough to say that I've got you all figured out now. I don't know about what happened to his father, but I think he would be ashamed of you by the way your forcing him mature when he's supposed to be enjoying his childhood. I've been around the block a great number of times and it's my firm belief that children can be so much smarter than most people make them out to be. These children need to be given the ability to grow and learn at their own pace. Do you have any idea how detrimental that is when you deny that to Mac?"

Mac's mother made another attempt to object, "You have absolutely no right to criticize or demonize me like this."

"I have every right to criticize you now! If _you_ knew better, you'd realize that both you and Terrence are the ones who need to grow up! Mac told me that you make him suffer the consequences just so Terrence can behave and so you don't have to take responsibility! That is, in my opinion, the most abusive thing a parent can do!"

Mac's mother was making it a habit interrupt her again and again to prove her wrong, "What do you know about my husband?!"

Frankie answered proudly, "Like I said, I think he be would ashamed of the way you are bringing up your children! He would be ashamed of you for the way you take out all of your depression out on your youngest son! I've got you all figured out, now. Mac isn't the one who can't let go of losing his father, it's you two! Because of the way you have raised your children, Terrence thinks he can do whatever the hell he feels like and Mac has to take on things that he cannot ever hope to take on for his age!"

Mac's mother was resisting a very powerful urge to strike Frankie. What on God's green earth gave this woman the right to approach her in such a disrespectful manner? She then let out the last thing that Frankie expected, a chuckle.

Frankie was appropriately perplexed "What is so funny? This is no laughing matter. I could seriously call someone for this."

"It's nothing," Mac's mother answered. "Is this where he gets his ideas from, are you where Mac gets these childish fantasies from? I've been trying to say that Mac knows so much better than to be getting ideas from people and places he has never encountered before. Having him give up his imaginary friend was kindness now it seems."

"What?!"

"It was for his own good. I had Mac give up his imaginary friend for his own good."

Frankie was almost royally ticked off now, "His own good or yours?!"

Mac's mother elaborated, "Mac's knows better than be getting ideas. He doesn't need to be thinking about such childish pursuits like what would happen if this mixed with this or whatever. What he needs to doing is going to school so he can learn about the facts of life so he can get a job in the future. He needs to learn how to become an adult and that thing was just getting in the way."

That was it.

She snapped.

She wanted to murder this woman.

"You…you bitch," she worded silently.

Mac's mother was offended, "What did you just call me?"

"Mac was right. You're more than just some scared widow who doesn't know how to take on the responsibility of being a parent after your lover passes on. You…you hate his imagination! You hate imaginary friends!"

And in that moment, Mac's mother would say the most spiteful thing that Frankie has ever heard in her life, "So what if I do? I realized how childish it was to have such thoughts when I became an adult and so did Terrence, why can't Mac? Why can't my youngest son realize that he's wasting precious time in his life…"

Frankie blasted her, "SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!"

Mac's mother's eyes widened, she was not going to take this

"Let me tell you something about imaginary friends, they are not things! These are living beings with the ability to think, act, and feel to their own nature! You never outgrow them because they help you grow! Why do you think people make cartoons or comics to begin with?! The reason is because they wanted to share their childhood with those that did not have one! These people have wonderful ideas and they are meant to be shared, not tossed out like garbage!"

Mac's mother could do nothing except roll her eyes because she hated people who held onto their personal feelings more than reality.

"It's wonder that Mac doesn't have the courage to come out to you. He's more than just afraid of being bullied or ignored, he's afraid of having his imagination suppressed. Well, I'm telling the truth to you for him!"

Frankie and Mac's mother both stared at each other for what felt like a few minutes. Both eyes were filled with anger, having the protective rage of a tiger looking after its cub. It was after these minutes that the phone of Mac's mother began to beep. "I'm sorry, but it's time for me to go," she said.

Frankie felt that she said all she could to her and conceded, "Yeah, I think it's time for me to hit it, too…"

Both woman pushed back the chairs away from the table and stood up from where they were sitting. Throughout the entire confrontation, their coffee was completely neglected and left to go cold. Luckily, Frankie would keep hers to reheat later, but Mac's mother threw hers in nearest trash bin as if it were nothing.

While on her way out, Mac's mother turned to Frankie and commented, "One more thing."

Frankie responded, "What is it?"

Frankie turned around and found what she could not believe. Mac's mother was smiling, or at least attempting to smile, and said, "Thank you for such an enlightening conversation. Now that all of this has been brought to light, I will make sure that Mac's curfew is set for much earlier."

Frankie's mouth was slightly agape, and she saw Mac's mother get in her car and drive away. She stood there for several minutes, trying to sort out all that was said. It was then that she rubbed her face, and a small tear fell from her eye. She wiped it off, and then got into her grandmother's borrowed car, and then drove away herself.


End file.
